


B is for Beard

by frecklesarechocolate



Series: Alphabet Ficlets [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Facial Shaving, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Castiel, M/M, Post-Purgatory, Pre-Slash, Purgatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 13:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2548757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklesarechocolate/pseuds/frecklesarechocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This Cas is a beaten Cas, and Dean would do anything not to have to see it again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	B is for Beard

The water drips from the faucet with a light plink! Other than their breathing, and the slow drag of a razor across Cas’s cheek, the dripping is the only other sound in the bathroom. The room echoes with the silence, the things not said hanging between them like a hazy cloud on a late summer day.

Dean dips the razor into the water in the sink and swishes it around, pausing to scrutinize his work. He taps Cas’s chin lightly and Cas responds by turning his head to one side. 

Dean works silently for a few more minutes, and then hands a towel to his friend. “I think you’re good,” he says. His voice is quiet, like he can’t bear to break the hush of the moment that they’d been wrapped up in. Cas’s mouth turns up in a ghost of a smile as he wipes the small flecks of shaving cream from his cheeks and chin. There’s a hunch to his shoulders that hadn’t been there before Purgatory, before he took on Sam’s insanity, and Dean’s chest aches at the sight. This Cas is a beaten Cas, and Dean would do anything to never see it again.

Dean clears his throat and busies himself with cleaning out the sink, washing the dark hairs that had just half an hour ago framed the lower half of Cas’s face. They need to talk, need to hash out the last year or two, hell, their entire friendship, but Dean can’t bring it up. There’s a lump in his throat that won’t let the words out.

"Thank you, Dean," Cas says, breaking the silence. He slides off the bathroom counter. Placing his hand on Dean’s shoulder, he murmurs, "For everything."

Dean looks in his friend’s eyes then, for the first time since he’d come back, really, and says the first thing that the blockage in his throat lets him vocalize. “Don’t sweat it. I did like the peach fuzz, though.” The ghost smile trips across Cas’s face again, and it’s all Dean can do not to drag his finger across Cas’s newly shaven face.

Cas hums a non-response, his gaze sliding away from Dean. The moment that had been ripe for honesty is gone, and Cas slips out of the bathroom before Dean has a chance to say anything else.

Dean stares after Cas’s retreating back and tries to cajole his feet into moving, but they’re cemented to the floor. 


End file.
